The Duffle

I made it home with no serious hiccups but my big rolling duffle went walkabout. PenAir decided that they needed to lighten the load by a couple-hundred pounds before we lifted off from Dillingham and I won the “left behind” lottery. It’s a sick feeling to be left standing at the luggage conveyor, watching that last sad bag (someone else’s) circle over and over and over again.

Sud'bá, my friend Will would say. My destiny.

After leaving my forwarding info with Baggage Control, I moved on with just my carry-ons, back through security, and settled in at the gate for my next leg. With a couple of hours till liftoff, and my confidence shaken in luggage logistics, I started a list of the contents of the REI duffle. Just in case.

It turned into a challenge, a game, to remember it all. Exercise for this old brain. And since I’ve written it down, I thought I might share it here. Just for grins.

So here's what came back from Alaska:

Simms G3 Waders – Lived in them. Friggin’ bulletproof.
Simms Guide Jacket – See above
Simms G4 Boots – See above
Redington Sonicdry Wading Pants – Seriously Comfy. Wear them whenever I can. Didn't.
Simms Vapor Boots – See above.
Patagonia Stormfront Roll Top Pack – Best piece of new gear of the trip. Stuff stayed dry.
SmithFly Digi-Pouch – Kept the SLR handy and dry
SmithFly 3X Pouch - Catch-all for small gear. Solid.
Simms Guide Vest – Didn’t use this trip. Guides had it under control.
Folstaf Wading Staff – I don’t leave home without it
Socks (REI, Wigwam, Swiftwick, Simms) – MUST have fresh socks. Carried a wad!
Quick-dry underwear (REI, Patagonia) – Absolutely critical
Boxers (Old Navy) – Comfort around the lodge and when sleeping
REI Midweight Baselayer Pants – Because it’s good to be warm
Select Soccer Warmup Pants – See above
REI Light Poly Baselayer Shirt – See above
Redington SonicDry Baselayer Shirt – See above
UnderArmour ColdGear Baselayer Shirt – See above
Simms Merino Wool Light Sweater – See above
Northface Windwall Fleece Jacket – See above
Allsport Heavy Fleece Pullover – My son’s. A very special warmth, and a tear or two.
Orvis Fingerless Fleece Gloves – Keeping the digits warm
Manzella Light Gloves – See above
Fleece-lined Stocking Hat – Keeping the ears warm
Columbia PFG Quick Dry Pants – Because I generally don’t travel/fish in anything else
REI Sahara Shirt – See above
Levi’s 527 Jeans – For kicking around the lodge
Howler Brothers Longsleeve Loggerhead Shirt – See above
Fiberglass Manifesto Retro Fly Longsleeve Shirt – Sleep shirt. Best logo in the industry.
Tilley Hat – Old school. In case of sun. It could happen.
Nylon Belt – No sagging allowed
Bathroom Kit – Travel necessity
Fireball Cinnamon Whisky (2 bottles) – See above

Those were the things I remembered and wrote down. I’m proud to say that I only failed to recall three items:

Book – Corman McCarthy’s Blood Meridian
Sony Digital Voice Recorder – You can’t always write shit down
Nestle Hot Chocolate Packages – Good with a little Fireball in it

Not bad for an old man with mush for memory. But I must admit, as long as it took me to decide what to take, and to pack it, I should have been able to recall it all. And though the list is long (and I carried more than a few “splurge” items), I stayed under my fifty-pound limit. Given my penchant for over packing, that’s pretty amazing.

So. What’s in YOUR bag?


Note: It all worked out in the end. No need to haggle over the list of items. The duffle made it's way home, a day later. Just long enough to insure that everything inside smelled plenty ripe.

Another note: Of course, I carried-on my fishing gear. You can take my clothes and leave them where you will, but the fly rods are coming with me. Maybe I’ll post the contents of that carry-on too, if anyone happens to be interested.

Directions For Use

Don’t aim directly at him at first. Point the spray about fifteen feet out and three off the ground, between you and the bear, so if he comes he has to come through the cloud.

Having the bear spray on my belt makes me feel badass, but the bravado melts away quickly as Todd gives me tips on how to use it. I know that the chances of pulling the trigger are slim, but the fact that I’m carrying it at all is sobering.

You’ve got seven seconds worth of spray, but don’t blow it all in one blast. Shoot two or three seconds, then pause.

That’s assuming, of course, that I can get the canister off my hip and flip free the safety while ol’e griz is sizing me up. Assuming I can move at all. I idly wonder how bears might react to the smell of freshly soiled shorts, but decide not to ask.

After that first blast, watch the bear, then the cloud. Be ready to adjust for wind or any other atmospheric conditions before spraying again.

So let me get this straight. Strategically position the first blast. Precisely time the duration of each dispersal. Monitor and assess the large, threatening carnivore’s reactions and the meteorological movements of the gaseous deployed deterrent and adjust application in equally measured portions according to these varying factors.

Fuck it. I’m just gonna spray Todd and run like hell.

Top Ten Baja Travel Tips - #4 and #3

Tip #4: Take some down time.

As much as you might wish to, you can’t fish every minute. Sucks, I know, but you can’t. Or at least you shouldn’t. You’re doing this for fun, remember, and it seems a shame to get burned out on it. Gives fun a bad name.

Now the weather often takes care of such things for you - wind, rain, frogs and locust - but when you find yourself in paradise and the meteorological gods smile down on upon you, you don’t always get that needed intervention. So, in the event of catastrophically perfect conditions, resist the temptation to cast ‘till you drop. Give the water, and yourself, a break every now and again.

As I tire my stroke starts falling apart and I begin to be a danger to myself and those around me. It's probably difficult for others to recognize the difference (my stroke always looks that bad), but I certainly feel it. So taking a break keeps me a little safer and prevents the repetition of bad habits. At least casting ones.

But, of course, if you’re supposed to be blogging about your trip and you’re staunchly committed to both of your loyal readers to experience and report back non-stop fly fishing exploits, putting the rods aside for an afternoon and settling into a hammock with a cold beer or dog-paddling about poolside with a high-octane fruity libation can make you feel awfully guilty.

Oh hell. Even I don’t buy that.

Barkeep!

Tip #3: Don’t waste valuable fishing time looking for stuff.

We spent way too much time and energy searching for misplaced articles. Wallets, sunglasses, room and car keys, spools of 30lb hard mono, cell phones, reels, laptop chargers, purloined coconuts. It was maddening.

For those of us with a few years under our belts, this is an everyday problem; the most effective solution to which is putting things away in the same place every time. This breaks down, however, when two fishermen are dropped into a location with no “same places” and the contents or their overstuffed duffels quickly expand to fill the allotted living space. It gets ugly fast.

Stuff gets lost in the expansion and subsequent reshuffling. There’s even a mathematical formula for it.

G = (Ix$xT²x(P+1)) – ½F

Where:

G = Gone factor
I = Importance of the item
$ = Replacement cost of the item
T = Shots of tequila consumed immediately before search
P = Number of people waiting for the item to be found before they can go fishing
F = Quantity of F-bombs dropped during the search

When the Gone factor exceeds one-thousand (or ten times the ambient air temperature, whichever is higher) your only hope of seeing the item again is if it has a hook in it. If it does, don't worry. Regardless of the G, you can be assured that it'll turn up. When you least expect it. Painfully.

Note: There’s some difference of opinion in the statistical community regarding the true effect of the mitigating variable F, but all do agree that it tends to make you feel better.

Sadly, there is no viable solution for this vexing misplacement problem.

We fishermen are slobs.

Top Ten Baja Travel Tips - #6 and #5

Tip #6: Bring your vise.

It doesn't matter how much homework you do, how many people you ask before you go, or how many flies you tie and bring along, you won't have what the fish want. I promise. The guide will ask to see your fly box, take one look, and grimace. No bueno. And, unless you are chasing bonefish, the chances are pretty slim that he'll have a box of his own. We fly fishermen are few and far between in his world, especially in the salty scheme of things, so be ready to be self-sustaining. Be ready to adapt.

That first day you'll struggle, limited to throwing what's "close" and hoping to surprise your guide (who'll probably be wondering why these foolish fly fisherman handicap themselves the way that they do - a truly legitimate question). And while you won't choose to avail yourself of his usual fare of spin-casting lures or live bait, you should ask to see them. Perhaps even snap a picture. Then, go back to the room, pull out your vise, and get to work making fluffier imitations.

Tomorrow's another day. And you'll be ready.

Gratuitous Technical Tip: If you're fishing surf, save the space and leave the bucktail at home. It doesn't hold up for shit in the salt.

Tip #5: Bring plenty of gear. Plenty.

Take tip #6 a step farther. You have a fifty-pound limit on that duffel, so scrimp on the Hawaiian shirts and throw in another couple of rods and reels. What's important, after all?

Luggage side note: The quote of the trip comes from the shapely young lovely who, when asked if she needed assistance with placing her carry-on in the overhead bin on the flight to Cabo, smiled ever so sweetly and replied, "Oh, no, thank you. It's light. There's only, like, twenty bikinis in it."

A collective masculine groan echoed throughout the southbound 737.

So much for continuity. Where was I? Ah, yes. Gear.

If the roosters aren't running, be able to set the 9wt aside and pull out a 7 and have some fun with ladyfish around the pier. Ditch the light surf intermediate if the jack are AWOL and stick on a 375g and do battle with small groupers and sea bass in the rocks. And if all else fails, spool up a floater and pitch it in the general direction of the poolside bar.

Whatever's biting.

I think it's appropriate here to extend a quick THANKS to the good folks at Redington for the loan of a pair of Link fly rods and Rise II reels and to RIO Products for their Tropical Outbound Short fly lines. I truly wish I could say that we tested them to their limits, but that's fishing. I was warned that the Baja surf can be tough on equipment but the gear took the abuse, including my fair share of inept surfcasting, and came through splendidly.

If you like 'em fast and need to do some heavy lifting, the 9wt Link's definitely worth your consideration.

Top Ten Baja Travel Tips - #8 and #7

Tip #8: Stray from the beaten path.

Resorts are nice, but immerse yourself in the destination. By all means, stay safe, but get away from the visitors’ venues as often as you can. See what the place you are visiting is really like. Learn how the regional fare is, not just how the hotel interprets it for your tender tourist tastes. Find a local hangout, return a few times, and foster a friendship with the proprietor. You’ll learn more from him about where to go and what to do than from any concierge. He might even tell you his favorite fishing spots.

And, as you get out and about, do your best to present a friendly face, not just an American dollar. Above all else, show respect. Be a good ambassador for your homeland.

Lord knows we can use it.

Tip #7: Learn the language. At the very least, give an effort.

Speaking of showing respect, I can think of no better way than to put in some time to learn enough of a destination's language to get around. Possessing a three-year-old's vocabulary is better than projecting a "What? You don't speak my language?" attitude, especially if you're following Tip #8.

And know more than just your standard "fish, beer, bathroom, pharmacy" progression, even if that's all you typically use at home.

In truth, plenty of folks you will encounter may speak a modicum of English (and some probably more than they let on) but you should neither expect nor demand it. You'll get more consideration and better info if you try to use the native tongue. If they then switch the conversation to English, most likely to save their own sensibilities from your destruction of the dialect, you can smile and say Gracias.

And while those cute little translation apps may come in handy when deciphering a menu, an application for a fishing license, or the Prohibido sign that the frowning policía is pointing to over your head, it's pretty much useless in a regular conversation. Siri has enough trouble with English.

And you look silly talking into your hand.

They are, however, pretty useful in cleaning up your potty mouth.

Top Ten Baja Travel Tips - #10 and #9

I'm no world traveler, much less a seasoned "destination fisherman." Kickin' around North Carolina has generally been challenging enough and a two-tank-trip is about as far-flung as it got. But lately, it seems, I've fallen in with a fast crowd.

Lookin' straight at you, Mr. Hunt.

Being a travel rookie, I've made my share of rookie mistakes. I tend to learn lessons the hard way (as if there was any other process for doing so) and it seems a shame not to share these lessons with other aspiring adventurers. So this week I present the top ten travel tips gleaned from my recent Baja sojourn. Don't get too excited, though. They're pretty basic and most of you fly rod toting globetrotters will chuckle at my naivety. But a laugh is a laugh so, for your entertainment and/or enlightenment, here goes:

Tip #10: Air travel sucks, so enjoy it.

There was once a time when flying was fun. Back when the boarding gates were filled with happy families saying hello or goodbye to their traveling loved ones, when TSA didn't learn more about you during their ten-second body and luggage scan than your spouse knows after fifteen years of wedded bliss, and when people chatted with their fellow travelers about where they were going and what they were doing instead of silently bowing their heads in insular worship to their iGods. Flights weren't booked tighter than a four-man game of Twister, and, more often than not, there was no one sitting in B or E unless they were on their honeymoon. People dressed up nice when flying the friendly skies, yet didn't worry if there were holes in their socks.

And there was food.

Those days are gone. Accept it and find a way to enjoy the ride. Don't sweat the indignities. Make eye contact. Smile and get on with it.

But don't smile too much. You'll look suspicious. Two words. Cavity search.

Tip #9: Understand your currency

Yeah, we need to talk money. And I don't mean "how much," though that's pretty important too. I'm talkin' about currency. What should your money look like? If you're staying in the Sates, it's a moot point. Dollars are dollars (or plastic) throughout the good ol'e USA. But what about when you leave the country? You'd think the answer was simple, but, of course, it's not.

Mexico. Pesos, right? Seems obvious.

So when arriving in the San Jose Cabo airport I went straight to the currency exchange and converted the majority of my dollars to the local stuff. 12.1-to-1, the current exchange rate is, but I got 9.8. And I needed to convert twenty more dollars than I had planned to get that. One-fifth of my walk-around money, gone, with nothing to show for it.

I then got a ride to the resort (a whole 'nother story) and asked the driver how much I owed him. Forty dollars. Excuse me? Forty dollars. Ummm... How much is that in pesos? He didn't know, but eventually pulled out his cell phone and did the math. You can bet he didn't use 9.8.

And for most of the week, having pesos was unnecessary, and usually a complication. At the resort(s) the menus were in American and the bartender knew only piña colada, seven dollars. We did our best to use the pesos where we could so to save ourselves another twenty percent bite on the way home.

Check before you go. If you know exactly what you'll be dealing with before going in, you'll save yourself a lot of grief. And maybe more than a few pesos.

But don't put all your bets on the almighty dollar. Even if you know that your destination deals well in American currency, be sure you have some of the local stuff. For, when you find yourself off the beaten track (and you should!), sometimes the right coinage opens some mighty important doors.